


FRONT SIGHT, TRIGGER PRESS, FOLLOW THROUGH

by shamelessly_mkp



Series: The FabFather [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, blaine is totally a mob!boss, everything is better with the mob!prefix, terrible terrible AUs, true love!!11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessly_mkp/pseuds/shamelessly_mkp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt. At the shooting range. For the very first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FRONT SIGHT, TRIGGER PRESS, FOLLOW THROUGH

 “Ugh,” Kurt said, wrinkling his nose and holding the gun as if it were a particularly offensive accessory.

“Hey, none of that,” Blaine scolded, correcting Kurt’s grip. “You’re the one who wanted me to show you how to shoot before your lesson with my mom, remember?”

Kurt remembered. It was a good plan, one that would prevent him from looking like a complete idiot in front of his boyfriend’s mother. Kurt had come up with it himself. It didn’t mean he liked it.

“Okay,” Blaine said, “You remember what I told you?”

“Always assume that the gun is loaded,” Kurt recited. “Never point it at anyone or anything you don’t intend to shoot.”

“Exactly,” Blaine said. “Now, this gun _isn’t_  currently loaded, but you should never take someone’s word for that.” He showed Kurt how to assemble and dissemble the gun, sliding the magazine into place and dropping it back out. “Even if you’ve just unloaded it, always double-check,” Blaine said, his face serious.

Kurt nodded. He really, really wasn’t sure he wanted to be doing this.

He also wasn’t sure he had a choice.

“You’ve already got your goggles on, so once your earmuffs are on you’ll be ready to shoot.”

“These things are an affront to earmuffs everywhere, Blaine,” Kurt said, putting them on anyway.

Blaine rolled his eyes as he slid the magazine back into place before passing the gun to Kurt. “They’re meant to protect your eardrums, not to make you look good. In most situations, you’re not going to get a chance to put in earplugs, so at some point we’ll go to an outside range and have you shoot without them, just so you know what to expect.” Blaine moved so he was behind Kurt. “Remember, you don’t put your finger on the trigger till you’re ready to shoot,” he reminded Kurt, tapping Kurt’s trigger finger remonstratively. Kurt quickly moved his finger off the trigger.

He was really glad he had mere moments later when Blaine’s leg sliding in between his made him jump.

“Relax!” Blaine said with a laugh. “I’m just adjusting your stance. You want to angle your body a bit more,” he said, his hands on Kurt’s hips encouraging him to turn. “Make sure to keep your stance deep enough,” Blaine added. “That’s why I made you spread your legs a little more. The point is to be braced for the recoil.” He adjusted Kurt’s arms a little, getting him to drop his shoulder just a tad. “Okay, so you’re ready to shoot. Now what?”

“[Frontsight, trigger press, follow through,](http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=video&cd=7&ved=0CGEQtwIwBg&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dgg6DquwSLVY&ei=foN8TeOPAo6D0QHAk63UAw&usg=AFQjCNGs_dJY0INZ0VNktfZao7InhvpuGw&sig2=LGgPgdXqEjagyXlesUAuSA)” Kurt said promptly. He felt Blaine drop his head onto Kurt’s shoulder with a thump.

“We’re not on _Criminal Minds_ , Kurt.”

“What? It’s basically what you said anyway.”

“ _Kurt._ ”

“Okay, okay!” Kurt sighed. “I close my right eye and only use my left to look at the target.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you said to.”

It was Blaine’s turn to sigh. “No,” he said patiently, “because your left eye is your dominant eye, and without a lot of practice, using both eyes is just going to mess you up and make you miss the target.” Blaine carefully fit his hands around Kurt’s on the gun. “And now what?”

“I align the front and rear sight.”

“Right,” Blaine said. “And once you’ve aimed the gun properly, what do you do to actually shoot?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kurt said sarcastically. “Pull the trigger?”

“Kurt,” Blaine said disapprovingly. This was _important_.

“I know, I know,” Kurt said quickly. “I don’t actually _pull_ it; I squeeze it slowly as I breathe out. And then it gives me a heart attack.”

Blaine paused for a moment, but Kurt’s description was fairly accurate, if a tad melodramatic. “Okay,” he said softly into Kurt’s neck. “So are you ready?”

“Not really,” Kurt said honestly. “But I think I’d better do it anyway.” Kurt felt Blaine nod behind him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said. “Remember to breathe.”

Kurt blew out his breath nervously and then breathed in again, consciously trying to steady his breath. It was difficult, what with him holding a gun and with Blaine practically plastered to his back, but he tried anyway. “Frontsight, trigger press, follow through,” Kurt said to himself. It was easier to remember than everything Blaine had said. He took in a deep breath and let it out, squeezing the trigger as he did so.

The actual gunshot was a surprise. Kurt nearly dropped the gun, but Blaine’s hands were there, holding him steady, and Blaine’s voice was in his ear, offering reassurances and praise. Kurt breathed in again, shakily, trying to calm his racing heart. Then he did the whole thing again. And again. And again. Until the gun clicked empty and Blaine was gently taking it from him, still whispering soothing words Kurt didn’t even bother to decipher. He twisted around in Blaine’s arms and kissed his boyfriend. Their safety goggles clacked together, and Kurt pulled first his then Blaine’s off quickly, knocking the earmuffs off as he did so. His heart was still racing, but this way he could pretend it was only racing because of Blaine and not because of guns or gunshots or him shooting a gun—

Behind his back he heard the click of Blaine removing the magazine and checking the gun before setting it on the counter that separated them from the range. Then Blaine’s hands were in Kurt’s hair and Kurt was going to complain, he was, but then Blaine licked his way into Kurt’s mouth and Kurt decided that for once having his hair mussed really wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Blaine's lips were slightly chapped, which distracted Kurt because usually his lips were as smooth as Kurt's. Blaine somehow seemed to know what Kurt was thinking, pulling back long enough to mumble something about not getting around to buying more chapstick to replace his old one. Kurt couldn't swear to the exact words; he was too busy trying to memorize the brief brushes of Blaine's lips against his as he spoke. Kurt pulled Blaine back into the kiss, twisting his shirt in a way that was incredibly disrespectful of the clothing, but honestly? Kurt didn't care, because Blaine's shirt was less than adequate. Kurt really had to do something about his boyfriend's terrible shopping habits. At least he no longer obsessively shopped at the GAP. That was something, anyway.

Blaine groaned into Kurt's mouth and tried to pull back. Frustrated, Kurt managed to flip their positions so _Blaine_ was the one being pressed up against the ledge. Blaine wasn't kissing him anymore, so Kurt took advantage of Blaine's unbuttoned collar to kiss his way down to Blaine's collarbone. From the way Blaine hissed as Kurt's teeth scraped his neck, Blaine wasn't objecting any more.

Kurt smirked against Blaine's skin, blowing softly across spit-slick skin just to see him shiver. He wormed his way in between Blaine's legs, getting closer. Blaine had one hand behind him to help him keep balance, but the other hand was on the back of Kurt's head, not to pull him away, as Kurt had worried for a moment, but to hold him where he was. _Finally_ , Blaine was letting them _get_ somewhere.

Okay, so Kurt had maybe freaked out a little the first couple of times Blaine tried to talk to him about anything remotely sexual, but Kurt was clearly okay with all this now and Blaine should stop trying to slow them down because he’s trying to respect Kurt’s innocence or whatever.

And okay, so the first time they _had_  done anything sexual, Kurt had sort of ended up crying.

But still. Kurt was a teenage boy with a hot boyfriend and he wanted sex, damnit.

Blaine made an incredibly interesting sound that Kurt thought deserved further investigation. and then Kurt felt a little dizzy as he was somehow pulled in closer—oh. Blaine was sitting on the ledge now. Kurt hoped he wasn’t sitting on the gun. Even if it was perfectly safe, being unloaded and everything, Kurt couldn’t imagine that being comfortable.

Then Blaine moved just a little, deepening their kiss even more, and Kurt forgot about the gun as he felt Blaine hardening against his stomach. Kurt felt dizzy. Letting more of his weight rest on Blaine, Kurt slid one of his hands in between their bodies. Kurt broke away from the kiss to breathe harshly into Blaine’s neck as he felt the warm weight of Blaine’s erection through the denim of his pants. Should he try to unbutton Blaine’s pants? They had to be hurting him.

Kurt had just started trying to unfasten Blaine’s jeans—it was a lot harder to do on somebody else, apparently, and Kurt was relying only on his sense of touch—when he felt Blaine take a firm hold of his shoulders and push him backward. “Kurt, stop.”

Kurt stopped. Of course he did. “I’m not made of glass, Blaine,” he snapped. “I’m not a girl, I’m not a child, I’m your _boyfriend_ , practically your _fiance_ , and this gentleman act has got to stop.”

“Kurt—”

“No,” Kurt said loudly, cutting him off. He balled his hands into fists. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I want to, and I know you want to—” Kurt paused. He couldn’t look at Blaine, but he had to ask: “You do want to, don’t you?” Kurt asked quietly, afraid of the answer. _You do want_ me _, don’t you?_

Blaine’s hands were on Kurt’s face in an instant, turning it toward him. Kurt determinedly cast his gaze aside. “Kurt, baby, look at me,” Blaine commanded.

Kurt couldn’t.

“Baby, _please_ ,” Blaine said. It was the desperation in that please that got Kurt to look at Blaine again. His eyes were warm and concerned and guilty and it felt like they were looking through Kurt into his very soul. And wasn’t that a grand cliche? “This has _nothing_  to do with me not wanting you,” Blaine said, shaking Kurt by the shoulders a little for emphasis. “Because I _do_ want you, Kurt, I do; I want you all the time, in every way, and hell yes I want to do things with you, to you, sex things—I want _everything_ , baby, don’t ever think I don’t.”

Kurt didn’t understand.

Blaine shook his head, looking upset. “We’re not doing this, Kurt; not now.”

“Why?” Kurt demanded. He was vexed to hear his voice crack.

Blaine ran his hands down Kurt’s arms, like he was trying to brush away lint, or comfort Kurt or something. His smile was sad. “Because you’re shaking, baby.”

Kurt hadn’t even noticed. “So?” he said, crossing his arms defensively.

“So,” Blaine countered, “I don’t care how ready you say you are—not when your body’s telling me the opposite.”

“Shaking is a sign of sexual arousal, Blaine,” Kurt said, annoyed.

Blaine nodded. “It can be,” he agreed. “But that’s not why you’re shaking, Kurt, and we both know it, even if you’re not willing to admit it.” Blaine paused to study Kurt’s face for a moment. His own face softened from the stern lines it had taken on. “I love you, baby, and I’m not doing it. This—” he gestured between them “this would be—will be—amazing. But sex, even amazing sex… that’s nothing compared to you.”

Kurt realized with horror that he felt like he was about to cry. It seemed like every time he and Blaine made out, he ended up cry—

Maybe Blaine had a point?

No. Kurt wasn’t a kid. He loved Blaine, and he loved how it felt when Blaine touched him, how it felt when *he* touched Blaine.

Blaine kissed him softly, first on the lips, then on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Kurt,” he said, and he sounded sorry, he really did, that was the worst part, Kurt thought. “Someday, baby.”

“Someday better be soon,” Kurt said in a waspish tone of voice. Going on the offensive helped make the lump in his throat melt away. “Otherwise, I might die from sexual frustration, and then where would you be, Anderson?”

Blaine grinned a little before jumping down from his perch. He laced his fingers together behind Kurt’s neck. “With you,” he said. “Of course.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “What, you’re going to marry a corpse?”

“Don’t lie; I know you love that movie.”

“You do know she turns into butterflies in the end, Blaine.”

“Yeah, but you’re my Victoria, too.” ** Blaine cocked his head to the side. “You okay?”

“My fiance won’t let me jerk him off in a shooting range. However will I survive?” Kurt asked dryly, resting his own hands on Blaine’s hips.

Blaine looked a little wistful. “You were really going to jerk me off?”

“Well, not anymore.”

Blaine sighed. “You should probably practice some more.”

“Do I have to?” Kurt asked with a grimace.

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned them around to push Kurt toward the ledge where the gun and their goggles lay. The earmuffs were in a forlorn pile on the floor from when they’d been so haphazardly discarded earlier. Blaine was just glad they hadn’t stepped on them or anything. That would have been difficult to explain.

Before Kurt could refuse to wear earmuffs that had _been on the floor, Blaine, are you kidding me?_ , Blaine had already picked up a fresh pair along with another couple of magazines for the gun. “C’mon,” Blaine said with a mischievous grin. “Show me what you’ve got.”

 

**Referencing the movie [“Corpse Bride”](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0121164/) -- Victoria is the male protagonist’s true love.


End file.
